


Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun.

by sesquipedalianMarquis



Series: The Meraad Chronicles [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Tabletop RPG), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Antaam - Freeform, Beresaad, Desertion, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Internal Conflict, Kadan, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, POV Third Person, Platonic Relationships, Prayer, Qun, Qunari, Qunlat, Re-Education, Soldiers, Tal-Vashoth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesquipedalianMarquis/pseuds/sesquipedalianMarquis
Summary: He's left the Beresaad, fled into the world, left his soul and life and heart behind...And Reth is left to grieve for a man who is dead in all but body now.





	Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun.

“So he’s gone.”

“Yes, sir.”

There’s a pause, and Reth doesn’t meet his superior’s eyes.

“Well. I can’t say we’re very surprised. Just surprised enough. The reports did indicate that he might have benefitted from re-education, but he kept doing his work without fail until he left.” The commander weighs his head from side to side a little. “He was slated to be brought in anyway, before you came to us. In a few months, to see if he would get back on the path on his own.”

“I should have talked to him sooner,” Reth says, in a tone that’s not mournful, but only through tight control.

“The two of you were kadan, right?” The word sends a flash down Reth’s spine, and he doesn’t want to feel nervous.

“Yes, sir. We were close.” The wyvern’s tooth he hasn’t taken off yet feels heavy on his skin.

“It’s good that you came to us. You did the right thing in that. He lost his way and turned traitor, forfeited his soul and left. I pity him for declaring tal-vashoth, but losing the weak will make us stronger. It is to be.”

“Yes, sir. Victory is in the Qun.” Was Taam-kas weak? Will the Qun be stronger for losing him? Right now, Reth does not feel stronger for losing him. He feels kind of hollow.

“You are dismissed.”

Reth nods and leaves the commander’s office. His thoughts are still roiling, going around his head in circles. It’s been two days since Taam-kas left in the dead of night. If he’d only left, they could have found him and fixed him. He wouldn’t have been beyond saving. But he left his axe and now the antaam has to kill him on sight for it. He can’t come home. He has no home.

 

It probably wasn’t an accident. Taam-kas is too organised to forget his axe, even in the most stressful situation. And he knows, he has to know that he’ll have to defend himself out there if he doesn’t want to die. So leaving his axe was a decision he made. Leaving his calling, purpose and soul behind. Cutting himself off completely from all hope of redemption. That’s what Taam-kas chose.

He’s upset and wishes Taam-kas was here to confide in about being upset, but Taam-kas is gone and it’s the cause of his turmoil. The thought makes him want to laugh in the most bitter way. He should have been faster in going to his superiors. They would have taken his kadan in and fixed him up. Maybe they would not have put him back in the Beresaad, so far away from Par Vollen, but he would have stayed in the Qun, kept his purpose and his soul and his honour.

 

The unbidden image of Taam-kas’ face comes to mind. The candlelight had painted shadows on his brow that made him look older than his thirty or so years. The breaks in his voice had him sounding older, too, so tired and hurt. He was hurting, and he had come to Reth for advice and help, as he should have. And he had bared his heart to him, all that conflict. All that struggle. And Reth had tried.

There is nothing to struggle against. Victory is in the Qun. They’re the most reassuring words Reth knows. Don’t worry, because the Qun is safety. Don’t question, because the Qun is answer. Don’t stray, because the Qun is the way. It’s kept him safe and warm and fed and happy for the last thirty or so years, and so many others too. But it’s hard to shake the pain in Taam-kas’ expression when Reth reminded him there was nothing to struggle against, because he was so clearly struggling.

 

It’s hard to believe that this is really happening, that his kadan is a traitor now, a grey one. It doesn’t feel real. He was always so reliable and hard-working. He took good care of his men, followed his orders and kept them safe. Where did he go wrong? At what point did he go from a part of a whole to feeling like a renegade?

 _He told you,_ a thought flashing across his mind in the meanest, snidest voice. _“The re-educators, they messed me up, Reth, they couldn’t have me feeling so soft and sorry for the dangerous ones, so they made them scary. They scare the shit out of me, Reth, it’s been more than ten years and I’m so fucked up about it. I pitied them, bound and leashed and hurting, and now I can’t look at them without my stomach turning to ice. Is this just? How can this be good if it feels so awful? Why is it better for me to feel fear than kindness?” He told you, Reth, and now he’s gone._

The pain in Taam-kas’ voice had been hard to handle. He’s seen him struggle before with injury and exhaustion, but never like this, not this bad, this emotional, he had been _shaking_.

Reth’s hand finds the wyvern’s tooth around his neck. He wishes he had Taam-kas here, to put an arm around him and speak comfort in his nice, deep voice. To hold him and spar with him and do his vitaar and watch his side in the field. But the man is a traitor now. He is lost and forfeit and Reth will never see him again. He will die by the Antaam, die by the Ben-Hassrath or escape to never return and die like an animal somewhere amongst the bas. For all it’s worth, he is dead already.

 

He finds a quiet corner and recites the prayers for the dead.

_Struggle is an illusion. The tide rises, the tide falls, but the sea is changeless. There is nothing to struggle against. Victory is in the Qun._

Once he is done, he feels lighter. Still heavy, but lighter than before. Taam-kas isn’t the first friend he’s lost. The only one that willingly left, but it doesn’t matter, because he is as good as dead now, it doesn’t matter that he made that choice himself. Reth can go on. Reth has to go on.

He takes off the wyvern’s tooth, the necklace of his heart, and holds it in his hand. For a second, he is consumed by the urge to throw it as far as he can and forget all about this. He closes his hand and tucks the tooth into his pocket, and keeps it.

 

* * *

 

A week’s forced march away from the Arling of Amaranthine, a Tal-Vashoth asks for a room at the most ramshackle inn in town. He looks like he’s been running. Inside, he is sure he is already dead. But the rest is needed, because even if his soul is forfeit, his body demands he sleep somewhere else than the bare ground, just for a night.

“Sure, we got space,” the apathetic human at the counter shrugs. “Give me a name and ten coppers. Fifteen if you want dinner, too.”

He hesitates, for just a second. It was easy to give his axe moniker when his axe was solid against his back, but the lack of it feels like a brand. It can’t be him any more. That Qunari died with his cause and purpose lost. He has prayed for him, nameless and fleeing and grey.

“Shok,” he says, and slides fifteen coppers across the counter.

 

A month further westwards, a Tal-Vashoth is selling his sword. The human looks up at him, indifferent to anything but his ability to handle a weapon and follow orders. Here goes the last scrap of his honour.

“Sure, we can use extra muscle on this one. We’ll take you on. What are you called?”

The tide rises, the tide falls. The sea remains unchanged. Prayers for the dead, because his life is forfeit, he left his axe. He left Taam-kas. He rose, and teetered on the edge, and he is falling now, crashing down like a wave.

“Meraad,” he says. “My name is Meraad.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! Reth's POV! I love my boys so much and they hurt so pretty. Please drop a comment if you enjoyed!


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